


Like Morning Light, it Scattered the Night

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Background Character Death, Background Relationships, Crush at First Sight, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-10-01 20:39:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20398474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: On the lower levels of Coruscant, Rabé runs a tattoo parlor with her sisters, and Fives is in charge of his family's floral shop.Neither expect their paths to cross, but once they do, it's hard for anyone to believe that Fives and Rabé are "just friends.”In fact, not even Fives and Rabé are buying it.(An Arcmaiden Florist/Tattoo Artist AU)





	1. sundrenched parlors & viridescent dresses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [evaceratops](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evaceratops/gifts), [naberiie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/naberiie/gifts).

> Here it is, this absolute monster in it's full first installment. When I first pitched the idea in the Arcmaiden server, I only expected this to be a short fic — maybe only around 2k at the most — but as I started writing, the words wouldn't stop. A simple idea turned into a twisting and turning story that didn't seem to want to end, so I rolled with it because...
> 
> It's my Arcmaiden Anniversary. Or at least, it nearly is. Back in 2017, during the liminal space between summer and autumn, I was preparing for yet another hurricane when I noticed one of my mutuals posting about a fic they wrote — [From Which Stars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11576703/chapters/29838726#workskin) I recalled seeing their posts about this couple before and being intrigued because I adored the Handmaidens as a child, so I gobbled up every chapter that was published at the time.
> 
> Now, nearly two years later, I'm even _more_ Arcmaiden trash, and still gobbling up updates. In those two years, the two wonderful creators of Arcmaiden, [ Eva,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evaceratops/pseuds/evaceratops) and [Em](https://archiveofourown.org/users/naberiie/pseuds/naberiie) became my friends. I adore them to bits, and they constantly inspire me — to draw more, to write more, to take better care of myself, and to stand up for myself more. 
> 
> So as I wrote this AU, I knew I wanted it to be a love letter to them, as a thank you for all the amazing memories shipping Arcmaiden (and our Campaignverse too, which there are subtle allusions to in this story), to the community itself for being so loving and supportive, and to these two beans who still haven't kissed yet in the year of our lord 2019.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this special treat ♥
> 
> Chapters will be updated weekly on Mondays!
> 
> [Edit: I know nothing about tattoo art styles so all inaccuracies are because i pulled this out of my ass.]

It was six months ago when Fives, the appropriately named fifth child to Jango Fett, entered Rabé and her sisters’ shop for the first time. Much as she'd deny otherwise to Sabé and Eirtaé, Rabé remembered the day vividly: the way the sundrenched parlor seemed to grow more saturated in color when Fives entered, sunspots dancing across the room from where the sun had hit a snowglobe of Theed Palace on the counter _ just _ right.

Despite the sunshine — artificial, though it may be, since they were located on one of the lower levels of Coruscant — the parlor hadn't seen much business that day, so Rabé jumped to her feet when she saw Fives. 

He looked nervous, and Rabé couldn't understand why because it was obvious he wasn't new to tattoos (there was a number five inked on the side of his head), but she went ahead and gave put her most reassuring smile as she moved around to greet him, a cheerful hello as she stretched her hand out. 

Fives turned around, started by her presence, but the second he took her hand and they exchanged names, he visibly relaxed. “Did you do these designs, Ms. Bhutia?” 

Rabé chuckled, “We're not big on formalities here, you can call me Rabé — I don't bite.”

“Rabé,” Fives repeated softly, like a personal experiment of how it would sound rolling off his tongue. He smiled, saying it again, “Rabé...did you do them?”

“Some of them! I do a lot of the more fantastical designs,” Rabé pulled a stool over to pluck a sketch book off one of the shelves nailed to the wall. “Sabé prefers more tidy designs, and Eirtaé favors geometric styles.” 

She opened the book, and tried not to feel self conscious as Fives looked over her shoulder at the designs. Rabé kept most of her sketchbooks up where she couldn't see them — as a perfectionist, she couldn't stand looking at her own work: her eyes always seemed to sweep toward the miniscule mistakes no one else would notice, like how her lines were shakier on this side of the art than the other. 

“They're beautiful,” Fives breathed, eyes alight with admiration. Rabé dipped her head, pulling her lips into a line as a smile threatened to go solo across her face. “And so _ colorful _, how do you manage that?" 

“I studied art for several years at University, researching all I could on Alderaanian murals — they're some of the most vivid paintings I've ever seen, so detailed and _ bright _ —” Rabé cut herself short before she went into too long a rant, “I began toying with similar palettes, until I wound up with this style.”

“I've never seen tats like these before,” Fives admitted. “I'm not that familiar with the tattoo parlor circuit. My brothers did mine, family tradition.”

“What brought you here, then?" Rabé asked, looking at his tattoo with fresh understanding.

“Recommendation down the pipeline, my brother is friends with a Jedi, who's ‘friends’,” Fives did air quotes here, “with a Senator who recommended this place.”

“Padmé,” Rabé smiled wide, even up at the highest peaks of Coruscant, their sister was supporting them. Rabé bit her lip, heart swelling with joy, and the intense longing of missing a part of herself. “Always watching out for us.”

“I'm glad she is,” Fives admitted, smiling wide, eyes inscrutable as Rabé met them. They were still standing close, and Rabé cleared her throat to break the strange weight that had fallen between them, closing the book suddenly. Fives coughed, stepping away. 

“So would you like to set up an appointment for another tattoo?”

Had Rabé known in that moment, that Fives' sheepish _ yes _ would change her life, she would've committed _ everything _to detail, not just vividly sharp snapshots of that day — she would've noted the way his eyes seemed to linger on her with a curious kind of admiration, or that his goatee was in need of a trim.

But all she remembered was the beauty. 

  


He brought her flowers after his second appointment. His arms were crammed full of them as he entered the shop, to the point she couldn't see the top of his head. Rabé gasped as he sat the vase down on the counter, trying to take in all the colors: deep russet pinks, oranges, yellows —

“It looks like a sunrise,” Rabé said, gently touching one of the petals. The flower shivered in response, tucking it's petals up and around itself. “A _ shy _ sunrise.”

“I wanted to thank you,” Fives explained, looking on at the arrangement with pride. “We had a lot of extra flowers this week, so I could spare some more — a greenhouse popped up, so we have another supplier — I meant to do this after the _ first _tattoo you did for me, but…”

“It's beautiful,” Rabé breathed, taking the vase and hauling it to the back. Fives stayed dutifully behind the counter, and upon her return, he inclined his head. 

“You're dressed up,” Fives noticed, “I mean...more so than usual. Are you —" he pauses, voice tight. “Are you going on a date?"

“What?” Rabé looked down at her viridescent dress. “Oh! No, nothing like that. Boxing match."

Fives nodded, paused, then shook his head, “Hang on, did you say a _ boxing _match?"

Rabé laughed, squatting down to pull something from under the counter as she explained, “Yeah, it's a tradition of ours; there's this old boxing ring down on the lower levels me and my sisters used to train at. Every month we go down there for a special lunch, and we'll take turns sparring for old times sake.”

Finding what she was looking for — a pair of earrings that almost certainly belonged to Eirtaé — Rabé stood up to hook them into her earlobes, an idea half forming in her head. “You know, I think Eirtaé invited Echo to lunch...if you wanted you could come along, as my plus one?”

Fives looked as though she'd given him an arm full of credits and steered him in the nearest direction of a candy shop. “I'd like that.”

  


“And you're _ sure _ nothing got broken?" Rabé asked worriedly as they continued their path through the alleyway that led to her apartment buildings. Fives laughed — a merry sound that was so infectious that Rabé couldn't help but giggle, too.

“The _ only _ thing wounded was my ego,” Fives assured her, gently bumping her shoulder. “You really know your stuff when it comes to boxing. Tattoos, boxing — is there anything you _ can't _do?"

Rabé screwed up her face in concentration, before swinging her gaze back to Fives, her lips a wiggling line from trying to contain her mirth long enough to respond cooly, “I can't move things with my mind.”

“Oh, so you're telling me you kicked my ass _ without _the Force? Another blow to my ego.” Fives said, scratching the back of his head as they stopped in front of the front door of Rabé's building.

“Yep,” Rabé popped the ‘p’ and Fives shook his head, his gaze a mixture of exasperation and mirth. “You think Echo will ever let you live it down?"

“Oh, I'm sure he'll let it go by morning — after he's told all our brothers, who are sure_ not _ to let it go.” Fives said easily, shoving his hands into his pockets, his eyes twinkling under the fluorescent light attached over the door. 

Rabé hesitated a moment, drinking in the sight of him. She could see her own design poking out from beneath his low hanging tunic — it was of a starbird, rising from a nebula full of stardust, and he'd had it done on his collarbone. The ink seemed to_ glitter _ under the artificial light, just like his eyes — and for a strange, inexplicable moment she felt the urge to reach out and touch it tentatively.

Rabé shook her head faintly, extinguishing the urge. “Thank you for coming with me, Fives.” Before rationality could kick in, Rabé leaned down and kissed him on the cheek, moving away just as quickly to open the door.

“Goodnight!" She called as she stepped inside, trying to ignore the dazed expression on Fives' face, and the way her heart thumped wildly in her chest like she'd run a race.

  


Rabé tugged at her skirts, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles. She bit her lip as Eirtaé worked on her hair, tugging and twisting and clipping it into a tight braid. She couldn't understand why she was so nervous, she'd been to _ hundreds _of Ari Veruna's infamous parties before, but somehow this time it seemed more daunting.

If she were truly honest with herself, it might have something to do with the man that was in the room that connected with hers. When Rabé first arrived and was given the directions to her and Fives' connected bedrooms for the weekend, she had shot Eirtaé a glare. The younger Veruna had coyly taken a sip of her tea, smile widely over the brim. Neither Eirtaé nor Sabé had been _ subtle _about Rabé's relationship with Fives.

Since kicking his ass in the boxing ring, their relationship had shifted from acquaintances to friends — they picked each other up for lunch every week, went out for drinks, and went to podraces together — but Rabé wasn't too certain if _ friends _was entirely the right term for what she and Fives had, and neither was Sabé, who had made her thoughts clear one night over a bottle of wine. 

_ “Just friends don't get caught up in each other's eyes so often they forget anyone else is there, and they don't take each other as a plus one to an Ari Veruna party.” Sabé told her, her deep brown eyes clouded with memory. “Believe me, Rabé. I know the difference between friends ...and something more.” _

_ “Eirtaé is taking Echo.” Rabé protested weakly, grimacing internally at how poorly thought out that response was. _

_ “Eirtaé and Echo are both aspec,” Sabé pointed out dryly. _

_ Rabé looked down at her glass, then knowingly asked, “So have you asked Ninx yet if she wants to go with you?" _

_ Sabé had promptly flung a pillow at her head, and all conversations of relationships were forgotten as a feathery war ensued. _

“You look beautiful,” Eirtaé said, bringing Rabé out of her reverie. Eirtaé looped her arms around Rabé's neck, an uncharacteristically serene look on her face. Rabé treated these moments like treasures, where Eirtaé could simply be at ease, her mind not working overtime to stay two steps ahead. 

“Thanks to you,” Rabé replied humbly, to which Eirtaé shook her head vehemently. 

“Just doing your hair does not win me credit for how beautiful you are. He won't know what hit him,” Eirtaé added, withdrawing her arms to pull Rabé out of her chair, inspecting her dress with a critical eye. It was a beautiful gown, a mixture of silly greens and sheer pinks, with an illusion neckline, with white flowers sewn into the skirts. 

Eirtaé reached around Rabé, pulling a golden pin off the vanity, and a sheer pink sash off the mattress. Within seconds, Eirtaé had tied it around Rabé's waist, and adorned it with the sun shaped broach. “Perfect.”

Rabé turned around to face herself in the mirror, and her heart fluttered madly with anticipation. Soon enough she'd see Fives, and they'd go out to the ballroom to greet Ari, and — Rabé swallowed. Would they dance together?

She hoped they would.

  


“I am _ exhausted, _” Fives groaned, collapsing onto Rabé's bed. 

Rabé giggled, dropping down beside him, "Ari Veruna doesn't half-ass parties.”

“Clearly,” Fives said, twisting his neck to look down at her. “I had fun though.” He gave her a tired smile, ”I really liked dancing with you.”

Rabé took his hand, threading their fingers together. “Before or _ after _ all the wine we drank?"

“I only remember the sober dance,” Fives groaned, looking up at the ceiling. “I'm sure I looked like an ass, trying to dance drunk.”

Rabé lifted his hand up, studying it with a wine-addled judgment. She could hold her liquor well, but Ari favored the strongest brews. “You were a beautiful drunk dancer,” dimly she wondered if that was an okay thing to say to a friend. “You were perfect.”

Fives turned his head toward Rabé, his jaw tight. “I'm not perfect, Rabé. I'm just a —”

Rabé shook her head, “Don't you dare finish that sentence, Fives. You're not _ just _anything, you are…. extradionairy.” She kissed his knuckles, one at a time, then scooched closer to him. 

Silently, Fives tucked his arm under and around her, pulling her close. Rabé sighed, placing her hand on his chest, and breathed him in. There was a mixture of a cologne he'd worn, wine, and flowers — there was always a smell of dirt and florals to Fives, from his work. 

Rabé looked up to see why Fives had gone quiet, and found he'd fallen asleep. She watched him for a moment, then with the confidence of someone who's better judgment had been dulled and who knew their words would fall unheard, said “I think I like you as more than a friend, Fives. And that scares me.”

She bit her lip, and laid her head back down. It didn't take long to fall asleep in his arms, and Rabé's last conscious thought was of how perfect she seemed to fit into his side. Like they were made for each other, frivolous as it sounded.

When she woke up the next morning, the only sign of Fives was his coat draped around her like a blanket. 


	2. starlit balconies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rabé and Fives travel to Naboo following a tragedy...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! An early chapter for everyone, because I would like to dedicate this chapter to [Raleigh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstlairde/pseuds/angstlairde) since it's his birthday! I hope you enjoy this extra angsty dose of ‘Like Morning Light’
> 
> I would like everyone to take note of the rating + tag changes! There's a lot of angst (that is resolved) in this chapter. Shoot your questions/comments/suggestions below in the comments! ♥

It was well past midnight when Rabé's comm beeped.

Half asleep, she grasped for it off her nightstand, and swiftly placed it on the mattress beside her as she switched it on, “‘Ello?”

“Rabé? Sorry for messaging you so late but — there's been an accident.” the voice on the other end was familiar, but Rabé couldn't place it as she sat straight up. It was like someone had dumped a bucket of ice down her back.

“What kind of accident? Is Eirtaé and Sabé okay?” they were both offworld for the weekend, Sabé on her honeymoon and Eirtaé had returned home for some family business. 

“Your sisters are fine,” the man assured, “but — it's Fives, Rabé. It's Fives and Echo.”

“Where are they?" Rabé demanded, the world around her tilting on its axis. Fear pumped through her veins, threatening to root her on the spot, but she leapt out of bed anyway, automatically getting ready to  _ move.  _

The man (who turned out to be Anakin Skywalker) gave her the name of the hospital, and Rabé dressed quickly, grabbed her things and bolted for her speeder. She almost certainly broke at least ten laws on her way to the hospital, but Rabé couldn't find it in her to care: all that mattered was Fives — and Echo — and if they were okay.

She found Anakin in the waiting room, beside him was a disguised Padmé. Rabé's heart swelled at the sight of her, and Padmé rushed forward to hug her. 

“What happened? How are they —” Rabé gasped as she pulled away, looking back and forth between Padmé and Anakin, who exchanged a heavy glance.

“It...seems as if a gang attacked the Fett's floral shop,” Anakin explained slowly. “They threw a detonator through a window while Fives and Echo were working. Luckily, they were the only ones there, but —”

Padmé reached out to touch Rabé's hand, “Echo took the brunt of the blast. None of the doctors are sure he'll —” her voice doesn't crack but it does falter. “They're not sure he'll survive.”

Rabé inhaled sharply — the thought of a galaxy without Echo is unimaginable. She sank down into one of the uncomfortable chairs, head spinning. “What about Fives?”

“He's badly burned, a few broken bones but otherwise okay." Anakin answered, “They have him sedated for now. No one could hold him down. Apparently he put up a fight, trying to find out if Echo was okay.”

Rabé supposed she should be relieved — although Echo's status was precarious at best — but all she felt was numb, replaying the last time she'd seen Fives, which had been — Goddess. Only yesterday morning.

He'd dropped by with a box of donuts for her, each chocolate with sprinkles, her favorite. Rabé demanded that they split it, so Fives stayed long enough to split the box with her. He'd make a cheeky comment about her chocolate mustache, so she swiped a dollop of it onto his nose. His entire face scrunched up as he laughed, leaning away before she could advance her attack.

Now his laugh was no more than a memory that made her heart ache as she laid her head on Padmé's shoulder.

  


The last time she'd been here, laughter filled the halls and canals. The twinkling, clear blue waters had been inviting, the sun warm and friendly on her back. Rabé and her sisters had been neither children nor adults at the time, caught in the liminal space between as they moved forward with their lives after Padmé's reign as Queen ended.

Now, the halls were heavy with loss, the waters were frigid, and the sun hid lazily behind gray clouds. It was if Naboo understood the monumental loss that happened the other side of the galaxy, the burden of which haunted Rabé and Fives even now, and had respectfully dimmed it's saturated wonder to mark the passage of Echo's death. 

Rabé's hands moved fluidly across the piano keys, a low and mournful Nabooian melody rising through the study. With every stroke across the keys, with every tear that spilled down her cheeks, it felt to Rabé as if her memories of Echo were spilling out through the music, drifting into the air and out to the sea, to be carried far from the villa for the stars themselves to remember. 

It wasn't  _ fair _ , she thought angrily, rising the notes into a furious ascendo. It wasn't fair that Fives lost his brother, that his family shop was destroyed.

“If you hit those keys any harder, you're going to break them.”

The sudden noise caused Rabé to fumble a note. She hissed her disapproval at the piano, and turned around to find Fives. He was leaning in the doorway, looking — her breath caught, for a moment. He looked so  _ beautiful _ standing there, a loose blue tunic and black trousers on, no shoes. So beautiful and so right at home that Rabé heart swelled.

If she was honest, she'd been dreaming of taking him here for months, but in her dreams the circumstances were different. It wasn't a trip to mend Fives' spirit, filled with the hole in their lives that had been Echo.

(Sometimes she wondered if taking him here now would taint Naboo for him forever. She hoped not.)

“Can I sit?” Fives asked, motioning at the bench. Rabé nodded, so he crossed the room and threw his legs over it, sitting down beside her. The seat was small, so they were pressed together. “I haven't played one of these in forever," Fives chuckled.

“You play?" Rabé asked in surprise. Fives threw her such an honest grin that her heart seized because  _ how long has it been since she's seen it?  _

“Always that tone of surprise. There was an old restaurant my dad took us to, had one of these. Me and Echo, we'd take Boba there some days. The owner taught us all how to play...there was one song," Fives pursed his lips, settling his hands over the keys. His eyes drifted shut in concentration, his fingers began to dance across the piano, belting out — somewhat clumsily — a triumphant song that Rabé recognized as Alderaanian in origin.

She hesitated for a moment, then set to work as well, helping him even out the rhythm. They sat side by side, occasionally exchanging glances filled with breathless excitement, drumming out the rhythm with mirth and laughter. With time, the song hit a crescendo, landing into a more intimate, charged and soft tune. 

At the last note, Rabé and Fives hit the same key in unison, their hands falling against each other. Slowly, they both turned to each other, eyes meeting shyly. Fives' gaze flickered down for a second, then back up to hers —

Rabé dropped her hand in surprise, sending a deep note booming throughout the room, making them both jump.

Fives cleared his throat, looking back down at the keyboard, “Good job, you're an amazing pianist.”

“I'm not the only one," Rabé told him sincerely, and it earned her another smile. Perhaps Naboo would bring him more joy than she could've hoped.

  


Fives hadn't realized how beautiful Naboo was, even after listening to Rabé describe it vividly one afternoon while they were exploring one of the lower levels of Coruscant, splitting a cola between the two of them. And the Lake Villa was another marvel: all the polished marble, the insanely soft beds, the clear water all around him —

Sometimes Fives caught himself wondering if  _ he  _ had died, and not Echo, because Naboo was too perfect, and he even had Rabé as company. Rabé, who'd been the first person he saw after waking up from the anesthesia. Rabé who'd held him at Echo's funeral, who pulled strings to allow Fives to take a break  _ here _ .

He didn't deserve it, that much he knew. After all, it was  _ his _ fault Echo was dead. Fives wished more than anything he had been the one to die, that he'd at least did more to protect his brother.

Would that night have ended differently if he'd accepted Echo's offer to run up to get a bite to eat instead of finishing up one more arrangement? Would it have been any different if Fives had noticed the danger, would he have been able to protect Echo the way he had him?

Those questions kept him up at night, tossing and turning in his ludicrously soft bed. More than that, Fives was afraid by what he would see if he fell asleep: would he see Echo's body, still and in beside him again? Or would he dream, again, of Rabé being trapped in the shop with Echo as it went up in flames while he did nothing but watch, his hands stained inexplicably with their blood.

So, every night once he was certain Rabé was in bed for the night, he snuck off to one of the balconies. 

He found it the first night they were there, after waking up sobbing from seeing Echo die again. Fives had been hoping to find a gym of some sort — he needed to hit something, more than anything. Instead he found a canvas of twinkling stars and a black ocean to keep his miseries company. 

It wasn't the physical release he hoped for, but Naboo's beauty was enough to patch the holes in his spirit each night. He still didn't rest easy afterward, but at least he wasn't plagued by visions of his brother dying.

Fives settled there now, resting his back against a column. It was windy, so sea sprayed across his face in a thin mist, mingling with a few tears that spilled down his cheeks. He didn't sob, Fives was too exhausted for that. It was a weariness that seeped into his body until they felt heavy as lead. 

“Fives?”

_ Shit, shit, shit, shit —  _ he rubbed furiously at his cheeks, trying to hide the tears — but Rabé was faster, catching his wrist gently and dragging it away from his face, as she knelt beside him wordlessly.

Fives stared at her somewhat helplessly, giving a slight shrug to say  _ here I am, exposed.  _ He hadn't ever wanted her to see him like this, hadn't wanted to burden her, didn't want her to _ know  _ what kept him awake at night, give her knowledge of the guilt that gnawed at his insides day and night.

She didn't say anything, a small mercy. Rabé simply scooched closer to him, dropping her head on his shoulder. Fives stiffened, a small gasp falling from his lips, and wept silently as she took his hand and kissed each knuckle — just like she had the night they'd fallen into bed together, exhausted. The words she whispered that night rose up from his chest, breaking free and blossoming throughout his mind _ : I think I like you as more than a friend. _

Fives knew she thought he was asleep when she gave him her confession, and so he kept quiet. He'd been moonstruck with her since that day at the boxing ring, and that spark had only been fanned into an all-consuming — 

She'd trusted him with her secret. Maybe he should trust her with his. Fives' mouth went dry at the prospect, but he pushed through the fear and said, “It's my fault he's gone.” Rabé began to protest, and Fives hurried on, “It is, Rabé. It's because of me the gang attacked us."

“What are you talking about?”

Fives inhaled shakily, squeezed his eyes shut and as he explained, Naboo fell away around him with Coruscant taking its place…

He told her about that afternoon, walking home with Echo and seeing those thugs — five or six at least — trying to lure kids into their gang, how they noticed one of the thugs had whipped out a vibroblade — how Fives stepped in, told them to buzz off, how it escalated into a fight, and ended with a warning, a promise of revenge. 

By the time he finished, his hands were shaking badly, and his cheeks were stained with fallen tears. Rabé stayed quiet throughout his retelling, and he could only imagine the thoughts that were surely racing through her quick fire mind — contempt toward him for murdering his brother, one of her sisters' closest friends? Disgust because Fives hadn't done enough? 

Or, perhaps worst of all, did she wish he died instead, just as he desperately wished?

“Fives —” Rabé began, trying to reach out but he couldn't take it. Fives leapt to his feet and leaned against the stone balcony, ducking his head.

“You don't have to comfort me, Rabé. I know you must hate me for it.” the words felt clunky on his tongue, and to say it felt like confirming it to himself.

Fives squeezed his eyes shut, wishing for just a moment that the circumstances of this trip were different, that they could share another moment under a starlit balcony. He longed for the universe where their circumstances had been kinder, where Echo was not dead, where his chance at an  _ anything  _ with Rabé were not dashed away by his own impulsivity. 

Rabé's hand landed on his arm, gentle and soft. It skimmed over his arm, across his chest, until it gripped a fist full of his tunic as she turned him to face her. Instantly, Fives felt his heart twist painfully — he had not seen such heartbreak etched plainly on Rabé's face before, but he saw it now. Her freckles seemed to sparkle under the moon, and her eyes blazed with tears as she gripped his shirt with her other hand, too.

“How could you say that?” Rabé asked, her voice jagged like a knife. “Fives, you did the right thing — both of you did. Do you blame Echo for stepping in with you? No? Then you shouldn't blame  _ yourself _ , the only people at fault are the monsters that attacked you. Fives...you are a good man, and I could never hate you.” Rabé unclenched her grip and smoothed out the wrinkles in his tunic, but once she finished she kept her hands against his chest, as she looked up at him. 

Fives inhaled sharply, and he felt the need to cup her face bloom within him, an urgency to show her the gentle love she had shown him. He brushed back some loose hair of hers behind her ear, feeling lightheaded and incredulous as she leaned into his touch, never breaking eye contact with him. He thought for sure he could lose himself in her eyes, will time to stop as he counted the freckles that dotted her skin.

At last he found his voice, "Thank you, sunspot.”


End file.
